Sherlock the Consulting Dragon
by TheReaderWithAScarf
Summary: After meeting The Doctor, Sherlock and John were ready to go back to their normal lives. Well, as normal as their lives could get. But suddenly, Sherlock is noticing very odd things happening to him. He finds himself breathing fire and growing scales. Is he going crazy, or is he turning into... a dragon? (Sequel to my earlier story: Two Minds Swapped.)
1. Chapter 1: It Begins With Smoke

**Early Author's Note: Hello, everyone. In case you didn't know, this is a bit of a sequel to my earlier story: Two Minds Swapped.  I highly recommend reading it before this story, mostly because you'll know who and why Finn the hedgehog is here, and also because of some things that will appear later in the story. What will happen exactly? Well, you 'll have to read to find out. I hope you enjoy my latest tale.**

* * *

**Sherlock the Consulting Dragon**

"Steady now. Steady..." Sherlock muttered to himself as he performed his experiment. It was late at night, and the pale moonlight from outside shone in from the window. He set up his bedside table with beakers and vials of different acids and chemicals, turning it into a mini-science lab. He started to do more of his experiments in his room since Finn came into the house. In this one, he had a blue-violet chemical mixture in front of him in a small beaker. He carefully held a vial in his hand, and was about to pour a little of the yellow acidic mixture into the beaker.

The drops had to be _precisely_ the right amount.

He tilted the vial carefully, letting a few drops of the yellow mixture hang off of the edge of the glass. He tilted it a bit more, and let two drops fall into the beaker. Once they hit the mixture within, it immediately turned a dark green, and started to slightly bubble.

A satisfied smile crept over Sherlock's face as his experiment proved to be a success. He moved his hand towards the beaker to pick it up.

"SHERLOCK!"

The sudden outburst from his flatmate made Sherlock jolt in surprise, and his hand accidently knocked the beaker off the table. It fell to the floor, spilling its contents onto the rug. Sherlock frowned at the green chemical puddle soaking into the carpet. At least it wasn't toxic.

John opened the door to Sherlock's room, looking quite cross. "Sherlock! I thought I told you to clean up after your experiments!"

"You mean this? John, I only spilled this because-"

"Not that, Sherlock. You were doing an experiment a few days ago with mealworms, right?"

"Yes, I remember," Sherlock replied. "I was researching how different chemical solutions decomposed the-"

"Not important now. Finn is in hedgehog form and he found the worms you experimented on and ate them, thinking it was one of the insects we give him as snacks."

Hearing this, Sherlock got up from his bed, worried for his favorite hedgehog. "Let me see him."

As the two detectives left the room, they didn't notice that the spilled chemicals splashed onto green, glowing specks in the carpet. The specks shone brightly after contact with the liquid, and then dissolved into the floor. After it did that, a small crack appeared, glowing bright green. The rug hid it easily because it was so minuscule, making it almost completely unnoticeable.

About fifteen minutes later, Sherlock entered his room again, relieved that the chemicals in the mealworms Finn ate would only give him a stomachache for the night. He felt a wave of fatigue go over him, remembering that he had skipped sleeping for around three days. It would probably be best to rest for tonight. After changing into his pyjamas, Sherlock got onto his bed, and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost instantly.

If anyone was in the room with a really strong sense of hearing, maybe with the hearing powers of five cats, then they would have heard a low, monstrous growl come from the small crack in the rug.

_The next morning..._

Sherlock opened his eyes, his internal body clock telling him it was about 7:00 AM. He blinked rapidly when the bright sunshine from outside shone, making his retinas feel like they were burning. He sat up and yawned. Once he opened his eyes afterwards, he thought he saw smoke disperse into the air.

... Wait, smoke?

Sherlock looked around his room for any sign of a fire hazard or flame, but found none. He swore he saw smoke and smelled a slight burning smell in the air. He frowned, but decided to investigate it later, putting it in the to-do section of his mind palace. He got up from bed and started to head towards the living room.

He entered the living room and took a seat at the table, which had tea and some toast laid out for him thanks to his flatmate John. The said flatmate was seated across from him, and next to John was Finn in hedgehog form, eating some dry cat food and berries off of a plate in front of him.

"Morning, Dad," said Finn.

"Good morning," said Sherlock, putting a hand over his mouth as he yawned again. When he did this, he felt his hand get extremely hot. Almost like the feeling you get when you hold your hand over a fire. He opened his eyes again in surprise and swore he saw smoke disperse again. He looked towards Finn and John, but they seemed too focused on their breakfast, tea in John's case, to notice.

A second later, Finn sniffed the air curiously. "Guys, do you smell... fire?"

John looked at Finn oddly, but then sniffed the air as well. "Now that you mention it, I guess so. Sherlock, you haven't been doing any experiments with fire again, are you? Not after the jumper incident."

"Of course not, John," he replied, "you're probably smelling the chemical solution from last night, it had a slight smoky smell to it." Sherlock hoped that John wouldn't see through his lie, mostly because if he did, then the only other explanation to where the scent came from would be that he didn't know, and saying it made Sherlock internally shudder.

Luckily John was too tired to notice, and simply nodded. "Okay."

The cogs in Sherlock's mind turned frantically for the odd happenings of this morning as he sipped his tea. He put down the cup and noticed that a good amount of steam was going off of it. It was scalding hot. But the detective didn't burn his tongue, and as the liquid went down his throat, it felt almost cooler than his body temperature.

This day was turning out to be very interesting indeed.


	2. Chapter 2: Scaly Discoveries

Sherlock stopped thinking the day was interesting when he found himself with nothing to do. He lay upside-down on the couch, almost dying of boredom. John had taken Finn outside for a bit of 'fresh air'. Sherlock didn't see why he called it that, the air was perfectly fine in here. Maybe an experiment would cheer him up. Something with acid. Yes, that would certainly pass the time.

Sherlock got up from the couch and started to head towards the kitchen, where he kept his apron. He would need it for the solution he was dying to make. That's when he noticed he was still in his pyjamas, so he headed to his room to change into some normal clothes. Once he got there, he started to take off his pyjama shirt. He glanced at the mirror that hung from the wall once it was off, then did a double take. He stared in confusion at his reflection, and the day suddenly grew interesting again.

Sherlock had scales growing on him.

Specifically, his shoulders had small, red scales starting to grow on them, and on his chest were little clusters of yellow scales starting to grow as well. Sherlock couldn't believe what he was seeing. As far as he had seen, people didn't just suddenly grow scales. He gingerly held out a hand and felt them. He plucked one out and felt a sharp pain, almost like picking out a hair. They were real, and impossible.

At least they gave him something interesting to do.

After dressing in normal clothes, he went down to the kitchen, where his microscope still was. He set it up at the table and examined his scale. It looked reptilian, but was bright red, not a normal coloring for reptiles. It didn't look like any that he had ever seen, which wasn't surprising, considering that a human had grown these. Sherlock was a little baffled. First, he was dealing with mystery smoke, and now, scales. Both coming from him! He growled as he couldn't find a scientific or sensible explanation of the facts.

Then, he remembered something a friend said to him once.

_"How about an_ unsensible _explanation?"_

Sherlock realized that if something as odd and crazy as this was happening, then there was a very good chance that there was going to be an odd and crazy explanation. Seeing as how he couldn't come up with one at the moment, he decided to try and experiment on the scales some more.

A few hours, and scales, later, John and Finn came back to the flat. Sherlock had just finished blowtorching the surprisingly heat-resistant scale he was currently working on when he heard Finn's gleeful cry ring out through the flat.

"Dad, we're home!"

Sherlock turned around and lifted up his welding mask to see John and Finn, now in human form, walk into the room. "Hello Finn. Had a good time outside?" He looked the boy and ex-army doctor over. "John took you out for ice cream and you tried out raspberry ripple. You liked it judging from the traces of it around your mouth and the stains on your shirt. After that you went to the park, shown from the dirt on your pants and the bruise on John's head, made from being hit by a softball."

"Right as always, Sherlock," said John, gingerly feeling the bruise on his forehead. "Finn and I found something in the park also, other than an injury."

Finn cheerfully went up to Sherlock and pulled something out from his pocket. "I want to give this to you."

The detective held out his hand, and Finn handed him a small gemstone. Sherlock looked it over.

"An intricately cut ruby, probably from a very expensive necklace, more likely an earring actually. It fell out when the owner visited the park. It's small, but of...great... value..."

Sherlock still had his eyes on the stone, unable to take them off of it. He kept looking into its polished surface, the greed in his gaze being reflected off of it. It was beautiful and it was his. He needed this. Needed the ruby, with its bright gleam and red glow. Nobody else could have this. This was his. His and his alone. He felt himself almost going into a trance because of his jewel. All his...

"Sherlock?"

Sherlock shook his head and the thoughts were gone. He looked up and saw John and Finn looking at him worriedly.

"Sherlock, are you okay?"

He cleared his throat. "Oh, I'm fine, John. Never better, just a bit... tired! Yes, yes, I'm a bit drowsy," he claimed, faking a wasn't exactly a lie, because Sherlock _was_ feeling unusually sleepy.

John eyed him warily. "Oh, really? This coming from Mr. I Don't Need Sleep."

"Oh, spare me your sarcasm, John."

"It's still light out," said Finn, with those big sad eyes only children and animals can wield. "Are you feeling sick?"

"Um... yes, yes I am. I haven't been feeling too sure of myself all day," Sherlock answered, truthfully.

John looked his flatmate over again in disbelief, but nodded. "Okay then, it that's true, you should go and get some rest."

Sherlock smiled and started to head towards his room. "Goodnight, John."

Once he was gone, Finn looked up at John, worried. "Dad, is he going to going to be alright?"

"Of course, Finn, don't worry. Although, I can't shake this feeling that something odd is going on."

Seeing how anxious Finn looked, John smiled and said, "Hey, odd isn't always bad. It isn't exactly normal for me to be with a shape-shifting hedgehog, now is it?"

Finn giggled and hugged his 'dad'. John returned the hug, not exactly knowing if this was a time where 'odd' meant 'interesting' or 'dangerous'.

Back in Sherlock's room, the detective was pacing madly. Why did he become so obsessed over the jewel? It wasn't different from any others he had seen. He'd been on a different planet with alien jewels and he didn't give them a second thought. Maybe he _did_ need some sleep. He threw the ruby on his bed, and then lay down on it himself, falling into a deep slumber. He didn't realize he was sleeping on his new-found gem until he was fast asleep.

_Maybe_, he thought before nodding off, _resting will make this situation a bit easier to handle._

He didn't realize that he was just making it worse.


	3. Chapter 3: Mysterious or Mythical?

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..._

Sherlock lay sleeping deeply in his bed, snoring softly.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..._

He grumbled slightly as an irritating noise pierced his peaceful state.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..._

He groaned, wondering who in the world would want to wake him up now? Then he remembered his jewel.

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..._

He opened his eyes in a flash as all of his drowsiness quickly went away. He sat up, growled and bared his teeth at the item that was making the irritating noise.

"You're not getting my...!"

_Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz..._

"... treasure."

The item turned out to be Sherlock's mobile vibrating on his bedside table.

"... Oh." Sherlock grabbed his phone and saw that it was Lestrade calling. He answered the call and held it to his ear. "Hello, Lestrade." Sherlock noticed at this moment that his voice was deeper and sounded kind of gravelly.

_"Sherlock, I was just about to hang up, what were you doing?"_

"Sorry, I was resting."

_"... At 11 AM?"_

Sherlock frowned and looked at the window. He saw that the detective inspector was correct, because the sun was shining high and bright in the sky. What had caused him to sleep for so long like that?

"Apparently so. Do you have a case?"

_"Yes, but you won't need to find out who did it, you just have to find out where he is. And the many millions worth of jewels he's stolen. We're at the jewelry shop that he stole from, the one by the park. Will you help?"_

"I've been needing a puzzle to solve. I'll be right there."

_"That's great. But you don't have to come if you don't want to. Your throat sounds a bit hoarse, maybe you're sick."_

"It's nothing. John and I will be there soon." He hung up, not waiting for a reply. That's when he noticed something else strange about the morning. Either everything had gotten a bit smaller, or he had gotten bigger.

The latter seemed more possible.

Sherlock got out of his bed and stood up, finding out how much taller he really was. He was at least half a foot taller than last night, or afternoon. He puzzled over the fact that he had slept almost 20 hours, and he still felt like he could sleep a little longer. Sherlock put the thoughts aside and decided to focus on getting into some fresh clothes, seeing as how he didn't change into his pyjamas before drifting off.

He got some new clothes from his drawer and took off his shirt first. He looked down at his torso and saw that his scale problem had gotten a bit worse. Well, more like a lot. He turned to the mirror to confirm what he had seen and saw that his eyes weren't decieving him.

His scales weren't a few clusters anymore. His entire chest and back were covered in red and yellow scales, the yellow ones appearing on what he'd guess he'd call his underbelly. Fortunately, the scales stopped about an inch or two above the wrist, which meant he could hide them under his shirt. What was unfortunate was that a few scales were starting to grow on his neck, and unless he wore his scarf, they would definitely show.

Sherlock decided to deal with that later and went back to putting on his shirt. He turned around to get it and glimpsed a bit of his back in the mirror. He stopped. Did he just see...? He gingerly felt his back with a hand.

He was growing wings.

They were small, relatively undeveloped wings, but they were still wings. Curiosity got the best of him and he concentrated, trying to feel and use them. After a second or two, they quivered and slowly opened and closed. He could use his wings.

Sherlock was more confused then ever. What was happening to him? _Why_ was this happening to him? He stopped and decided to focus on the first question. What was happening to him? He was growing scales and wings, sleeping more often, getting attracted to shiny objects, his body temperature was rising-

Sherlock stopped. All of those descriptions had gone through his mind palace and something popped up that fit all of them. But it was so unusual, so improbable, so impossible that it took a moment for Sherlock to register it.

Sherlock was turning into a dragon.

_... No, no, no! _he thought. _That's too far-fetched. And besides,_ he mentally added, going to sit down on his bed,_ if I was turning into a dragon, I'd also be growing a- OW!_

Sherlock felt a sharp pain in his rump once he sat down on his bed and leapt off of it. He immediately knew what the problem was, and, apprehensively, reached down to feel under the small of his back and found the source of the pain.

He had accidently sat down on his tail.

"... JOHN!"

He heard his flatmate's footsteps as he walked to his room, noting that his sense of hearing had improved.

"Sherlock, you're finally up. I was getting a bit worried about you." John opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. "What's wrong- OH MY GOD!"

John had seen many, many things in his life. After meeting Sherlock, he was prepared to tolerate many unusual things. After meeting The Doctor, he was prepared to tolerate anything. But seeing your flatmate covered in scales with wings and a tail must have been a bit surprising.

"John! I'm turning into a dragon!" said Sherlock.

"... What- are you serious?" asked John, incredulously blinking to see if what he saw in front of him was real.

"Yes, of course I am! Or, you know, maybe I'm being a bit ridiculous. I hear tons of people suddenly look like giant lizards!" he retorted, sarcastically.

"So, wait, hold on," said John, closing his eyes and putting his face in a hand. "You mean to tell me you're suddenly turning into a mythical creature that doesn't exist?"

"It might exist, John! I mean, I'm turning into one!" Sherlock started to pace back and forth, his tail twitching anxiously. "It all adds up. The smoke from yesterday came from me when I yawned. I was attracted to the ruby from yesterday because of a dragon's natural greed. I'm growing reptilian wings, which-"

"Sherlock!"

The detective stopped pacing and turned to his partner, who was curiously staring as him.

"I'm not saying that I don't believe you. It's just a bit weird is all. But there's one test I want to give you to see if you _are _turning into a dragon."

John slyly grinned as he walked over to Sherlock's bed and plucked out a feather from his pillows.

"John, what are you-"

But before he could say anything else, Sherlock was having his nose tickled by John. Once he stopped, he gave his flatmate a look of pure annoyance.

"What was that for-... ah... ah... ACHOO!"

Suddenly, bursts of flame erupted from the detective's nostrils, nearly setting the carpet on fire. John watched with great amusement.

"Yep, you're turning into a dragon."

Sherlock glared at John, his eyes looking draconic for a split second. "Haha, very funny. Can we focus on finding a way to reverse it now?"

"Right, sorry," he replied, suppressing a giggle. "So, when has this started happening?"

"Ever since yesterday morning." Sherlock's eyes lit up. "John, all of these changes have happened when I was asleep. Maybe it only affects me when I'm unconscious."

"That's a possibility."

Suddenly, Sherlock's face contorted into a grimace. He closed his eyes and groaned, seeming to be in pain.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, what's wrong?"

Wincing, he replied, "My teeth... my teeth hurt."

"Here, let me see."

Sherlock opened his mouth and showed John yet another change that had happened to him. His teeth were sharp and carnivorous, almost as if somebody filed them down. All of them were white, gleaming fangs that frightened John to his very core. He was sure of one thing. Sherlock's teeth weren't like that when he was talking to him before.

"I don't think the unconscious thing is a possibility anymore."


	4. Chapter 4: Sherlock The Terrible

After the discovery that Sherlock was turning into a dragon, John helped his partner get ready to go outside without showing any of his new draconic features, which included wrapping his tail around his torso, not speaking much so he wouldn't risk showing his teeth, and making sure that he didn't take off his scarf to show the scales on his neck. Everything seemed to be going perfectly, so they headed out.

Now, they were running down a dark alleyway after the jewel thief that they needed to catch. The burglar carried the stolen jewelry in a large canvas bag he slung behind his back, almost like the thieves in old cartoons.

_Seriously?_ Sherlock thought, as he ran through the alleyway. _You'd think the criminal class of today would have a little more imagination._

The distance between the detectives and the thief grew shorter and shorter.

"We almost have him, Sherlock!" yelled John.

Suddenly, the jewel thief stopped and knocked over a trash-can, and the ex-army doctor ended up tripping over it. He fell flat on his face, comically and painfully at the same time.

"John!" Sherlock was about to turn back to help his friend, but when the crook started to run again, his bag opened a little, letting Sherlock get a glimpse of the gems and jewelry inside. Seeing the gold, silver, emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and other gems and metals made a drastic change overcome the detective.

A whole new mind seemed to take over Sherlock, a mind that only wanted the stolen jewels. No, the treasure! His original train of thought was hammering at him, telling him to stop and think. But he was under new management now, and it was telling him only one thing.

HE NEEDED THAT TREASURE.

Like the dragon he was turning into his eyes narrowed into reptilian slits, and he growled. He immediately started to run towards the thief with more energy and passion than before.

The burglar seemed to notice this and picked up the pace. But Sherlock wasn't going to let him off that easy.

The detective lunged at the burglar and his wings, which had grown during the time that had past, burst out of his jacket, ripping his clothes and making him seem even more threatening. He flew and tackled the thief to the ground, knocking the bag out of his hands and to the side. John had been seeing all this from his spot on the ground and got up running to the bag.

Once the crook was on his back, he looked up to one of the most frightening sights he had probably ever seen in his life.

Sherlock's reptilian eyes were still glaring holes into him as he bared his teeth, letting out a roar that was more fierce than ten lions. His red and golden wings flared intimidatingly above him and, dislodged from its hiding place due to the chase, his tail was seen behind him as well. A bright orange glow started to form at the back of Sherlock's mouth, as new instincts kicked in that told him this foe deserved incineration. He was about to continue with his scorching plans when a voice stopped him.

"Hey! Lizard Holmes!"

Sherlock glared at the source of the offending voice and saw John a few feet away, clutching the bag of treasure in one hand. He held it up mockingly.

"Do you want it? Do you, you over-grown smoke-snorting lizard?"

The detective was still thinking with his 'dragon mind', so he took great offense from this comment. He pushed himself off of the thief, who had fainted from the great shock he had been through.

"That's right, I said it! You're nothing more than a... a... slinking salamander!" John yelled, sticking his tongue out after.

The glare and growl Sherlock gave him after made John only say two more words.

"... Oh boy."

_2.5 seconds later..._

People walking out on the street that day sure got a surprise when John Watson started sprinting for his life away from a roaring, running/flying Sherlock Holmes.

"YYYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!"

John couldn't help but scream as he ran as fast as his legs could take him, carrying the heavy sack with him at the same time. What was he thinking trying to lure his flatmate away from possibly killing somebody?! Probably nothing. Curse his caring nature!

John yelped as a burst of fire narrowly avoided his foot.

Okay, run now, curse later.

"Omigodomigodomigodomigodomig od!" he exclaimed as he ran into 221B with Sherlock close behind. He frantically climbed the staircase, ran to their flat door, opened it, and threw the bag of loot in there. He quickly stepped to the side just as Sherlock lunged for the bag. Once his partner was in the flat, he closed the door and locked it. John leant on the door as he caught his breath, sighing in relief that the chase was over. Now, there'll be no more big surprises...

"Hi, Dad!"

"Yikes!" John straightened up defensively, but relaxed again once he saw that it was just Finn, in hedgehog form. "Oh, Finn. You startled me. Wh-What're you doing out here?"

"I was exploring the hallway in my hedgehog form so that there was more to explore. It still wasn't that interesting. Who just flew into the flat?"

As if in a sort of response to his question, a loud crashing and banging sound came from inside. John sighed and said, "Sherlock. He's turning into a dragon."

The young mammal's eyes widened in awe. "A dragon? Awesome!"

"I beg to differ," John retorted, still catching his breath. "I'm a bit nervous to go in there. Maybe we should wait until he's done... doing whatever he's doing." He frowned. "What_ is _he doing anyway? He sounds like he's destroying the house."

"Not destroying, Dad," said Finn, leaning an ear against the door. "More like... searching."

"Searching? For what?" John listened more closely to the clattering noises from within the flat and realized what Finn was getting at. The crashes and thumps weren't destructive, but sounded kind of like when you'd lost something important and you're frantically searching for it. "Finn, let's wait until the noises stop, then we'll check on Sherlock."

"Okay Dad."

The two stood outside the door to the flat eavesdropping until the crashing stopped. After a few seconds, John opened the door and walked into the room. "Finn, how about you change into human form?"

"Okay," he replied, closing his eyes and beginning to shapeshift. After the young hedgehog turned into a young boy, they both looked around the room, viewing the damage Sherlock had done. Every drawer was opened and emptied, every corner searched and every rug looked under. There didn't seem to be one place that the detective/dragon hadn't searched.

John and Finn tiptoed around the spilled objects that scattered the floor and headed towards Sherlock's room. They opened the door to it and peeked inside, instantly becoming surprised at what they saw.

They saw Sherlock's bed surrounded and covered in a pile of treasure. On closer inspection, the 'treasure' turned out to be the stolen jewelry from earlier, silverware from their kitchen, cufflinks, some daggers that Sherlock kept around the house, and more that was either metal or gems. In the center of the pile was Sherlock himself, lounging atop his hoard, proudly napping. The detective looked even more like a dragon now, having doubled in size. Scales covered his entire body except the center of his face, and his hands had turned into claws. His tail had grown longer and his wings larger and more aerodynamic. Sherlock's ears were pointier and red, and he had started to grow a sort of snout. As he snored, his fangs could be seen clearly inside his mouth.

John nervously cleared his throat. "Ahem! Uh, Sherlock?"

Sherlock's eyes slowly stretched open and he lifted his head up. He gave a great yawn, flicking out his snake-like tongue. Seeing this made Finn shrink back nervously.

"What is it, John?"

John raised a hand and gestured to the hoard that was Sherlock's bed. "What's that?"

"... A nest," he replied, with a bored expression, "duh."

"Oh, fine... uh, why did you build a nest?"

Sherlock opened his mouth and looked like he was about to state a painfully obvious fact, then he closed it again and looked confused. "... I.. I'm not sure... Instincts, I suppose."

John started to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. "Yes, so, I was wondering... I think I have an idea for turning you back to normal."

Sherlock looked up again at John, worried. "Actually, John, I think I want to stay a dragon."

Finn poked his head out from the wall he was hiding behind. "What?! Why?"

"Because," he replied, getting off of his hoard, "I'm bigger, stronger," Sherlock flapped his wings and rose into the air, "capable of flight," he opened his mouth and unleashed a blast of fire a few feet away from John, spooking him greatly, "more powerful, but most of all," he flew towards John with a malicious gleam in his eyes, "better."

John looked at his friend in horror. "Oh no, Sherlock. The dragon you has gone to your head!"

"The dragon me _is _my head, John!" he yelled back in reply.

"No, IT'S NOT!" John practically screamed, making Sherlock flinch. "You're NOT a dragon! You're Sherlock bleedin' Holmes, consulting detective!"

"Not anymore!" The fire in the dragon's eyes were burning into John, but he still stood tall. "I AM a dragon, and I'll go somewhere where I can be alone with my treasure."

Before the former army doctor could respond, Sherlock had gathered all of his hoard together and crashed through the wall. Yes, that's right, he _crashed_ through the wall, meaning he just flew though it without any problems. Soon, a red dragon/human was flying over London, and John stood dumbfounded next to the demolished wall.

"... Well, this is just great!" He looked towards Finn, who looked more confused than scared. "Ms. Hudson is going to kill me!"


	5. Chapter 5: What The Doctor Ordered

"... Dad?" said Finn, looking thoroughly confused. "What just happened?"

John sighed and incredulously looked at the broken wall. "Well, Sherlock turned into a dragon and flew out of here. I'm certain that was, and will always be, the strangest thing that's ever happened to me."

"Well, what should we do to get him back?"

"... I have no idea." John groaned and put his head in his hand. "Okay, let's think. How can we fix this? I was thinking of searching the flat for something that could've been the cause of this, but we'll never find anything in this mess!"

"Maybe Dad needs a doctor," suggested Finn.

John opened his mouth to explain that this wouldn't work because humans don't normally immediately turn into mythical creatures in the course of two days, when an idea came to him. "Finn, you're a genius!" he exclaimed, breaking into a grin.

"I am?"

"Yes, you are! We don't need _a _doctor, we need _The_ Doctor!" He rushed to his room. "Follow me!"

Finn ran after the former army doctor, and when he arrived at his room, he saw John rifling through a pre-rifled drawer.

"As you know, The Doctor's an alien who travels through space. I'm sure he's seen tons of odd things! And I bet someone turning into a dragon hasn't been the oddest. He'll probably help us. Now if only I could find it..." Suddenly, he held a blue whistle up triumphantly. "Bingo!" He started to bring it to his lips when he noticed a little piece of paper in a hole in the whistle. He pulled it out and opened it, finding a small note.

_When using this, blow with one long breath. -Doctor_

John shrugged and put the whistle in his mouth. Using one long breath, like the paper said, he blew it. To his surprise, instead of one long note, a series of different notes sounded from the whistle, almost like a portion of a song. If John remembered correctly from his clarinet lessons back in school, it went something like this:

_D-F-A-F-B-flat A-G-sharp-G-sharp A-A_

To him it sounded like... probably what The Doctor would sound like. He only hoped that he had heard him.

_Meanwhile in the Time Vortex..._

Rory and The Doctor were in the control room of the TARDIS. The latter was hunched over a piece of machinery and the former was next to a toolkit. The Doctor held out a hand to his companion.

"Sonic screwdriver."

"Sonic screwdriver," Rory replied, passing it to him. The Time Lord took it and used it on the machine.

"...Temporal screwdriver."

"Temporal screwdriver."

"... HD screwdriver."

"HD- How do you make an HD screwdriver in the first place?" Rory asked incredulously.

"Get a regular screwdriver, then make it high-definition. Duh!" The Doctor grabbed the tool from Rory and continued to work.

"Why do you have so many tools anyway?"

"Oh, Mr. Pond, if there's one thing I've learned during the past thousand years, it's to always be prepared!" He looked at the improvements he made and frowned. "Hmm... hammer," he said, holding out his hand.

Rory scanned the toolkit. "Uh, no hammers."

The Doctor stood up and rifled through the kit himself. "What? Oh, come on!" He sighed and looked back at the broken radio he was fixing. "Oh well, I think it'll still work." He flipped the 'change channel' switch. "Please get off the dreamy soft music channel, please get off the dreamy soft music channel..."

Once the music started the playing, The Doctor threw his hands in the air. "Seriously! You'd think having spent time with the _inventor_ of the radio would help you, but _noooooo_!"

"Doctor," said Rory, "it's just a radio."

"Yeah, but you're not getting the point. See-"

Suddenly, a soft tune was heard through the TARDIS that wasn't coming from the radio, which made a big grin get planted on The Doctor's face.

"What's that?" asked Rory.

"A call." After stuffing the radio in his pocket, the Time Lord leapt to the controls and started pressing buttons and flipping switches. "Well, Rory, we're going to be meeting our nephew today. Off to 221B!"

_Back at Baker Street..._

John's spirits lifted once he heard the unforgettable sound of the TARDIS engines sounding from Sherlock's bedroom. He immediately ran to the room, with Finn following close behind. They quickly burst through the door and saw the ship themselves, as well as the two travelers next to it.

"Doctor! Rory!"

"Uncle Doctor!"

Finn ran towards the Time Lord and tackled him in a hug. The Doctor laughed and scooped him up in his arms, lifting him up into the air.

"Finn! How's my favorite hedgehog? Haha!" He put him down and ruffled his spiky hair. "Now go say hi to Uncle Rory, okay? I think he needs a hug."

After leaving Finn to Rory, The Doctor walked over to the former army doctor. "John! Nice to see you! How are things? Hope they've been good. We weren't gone for long, I hope?"

"No, just two weeks," he answered.

"Oh, good! I didn't overshoot with the time. For us it was two days. Well, I say two days, it's probably been-"

"Doctor," interrupted Rory, knowing that the alien had a tendency to go off on tangents, "I think when John called you, something bad happened."

"Really? Why?"

John and Rory both rolled their eyes and gestured to the demolished wall. The Doctor looked at it and it clicked in his mind.

"Oh! Okay, so something's gone wrong and you need me to fix it. It's not a small task, is it? I don't want you abusing the whistle. I lent one like that to George Washington once and wow, what a nightmare. I said to him, 'George-'"

"Doctor! It's a big problem," persisted John.

"Alright, what happened?"

"Sherlock turned into a dragon. I don't know how or why, but he did, and then he took a pile of valuable stuff and flew through the wall."

The Doctor looked at John skeptically before saying, "Now, when you say 'turned into a dragon'..."

"Doctor, you have to believe me. I'm telling the truth!"

"He is!" piped up Finn. "Dad was so scary! He was bigger and had claws and could breath fire!"

"Well, that explains the scorch-mark on the carpet," said Rory, gesturing to the black mark with his shoe.

The Doctor looked thoughtful for a moment and then grinned. "I've got an idea. I'm going to scan the entire room. That way, we'll find out if anything here has caused Sherlock's transformation." He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and tried to twirl it around with some hand movements, but that only caused it fall to the ground. "Gah! Still getting the hang of that!"

He picked it up again and pressed the button on it, making its familiar buzzing noise fill the room. He twisted the controls on it some more and a faint green laser beam shone out of the tip. "There we go. Now, let's see.." The Doctor held the screwdriver out in front of him and pointed it at Rory. Immediately, the light turned a darker shade of green.

"Ah, it works. It reacts to other-worldly particles and Rory and I are covered in them."

He directed the glow away from Rory and shone the beam around the room. It didn't react to anything at first. But then, it landed on a spot on the ground next to Sherlock's bed and turned dark green.

"Oh, haha! We've got something!" the alien said, gleefully. The Doctor walked closer to the spot with his screwdriver until he was almost on top of it. He went down on his knees and his eyes scanned the carpet. "Hmm... I think I've found the source of your problem."

John walked over to where The Doctor was crouching and knelt down himself. "What is it?"

The Doctor pointed at a small green, glowing crack in the carpet with his finger. "This."

"What's that?"

Rory came up behind The Doctor and saw what he was pointing at. "Doctor, is that a smaller version of the cracks we've encountered before?"

"Oh no, Rory, this one's completely different. This is a trans-dimensional crack, meaning it links our dimension to another one."

"You mean like the rock I got in the crystal cave?"

"Yes, but that's different. That simply lets you transport to other realities. This crack links the two worlds and does a very special thing, if the conditions are right."

"What thing does it do, Uncle Doctor?" asked Finn.

"And what conditions?" asked John.

"Well, it only does the thing if on both sides of the crack are two counterparts. The counterparts in this case would be Sherlock, and whoever's on the other side of the crack. The thing it's supposed to do is that if the crack was formed in the other universe, its counterpart would be turning into Sherlock. If it was started here, he would be turning into his counterpart."

"So, if Sherlock's turning into a dragon..." started Rory.

"... then the crack was formed in here," continued John. "So, in another reality, Sherlock's a dragon?"

"Want to take a look at him?" The Doctor asked, mischievously. He picked up his screwdriver and buzzed it at the crack. It shone brightly, then started to open. Soon, it was open about two inches wide. The Doctor put his eye to the space and gasped. "Oh, no way..."

"What is it, Doctor?"

"... This is no ordinary alternate dimension," he replied, still transfixed on the image. "Wow... if only Tolkien could see this..." The Doctor looked back at John with a wide smile. "You need to look at this."

John leant over and looked through the space. He saw a large, magnificent red and gold dragon, sleeping on a tremendous hoard of treasure and gems in a big, dark cave. He remembered seeing this before in his imagination when he was a kid, when he was bored and decided to read a book. A book with a dragon called...

"Smaug," John said, in awe. "Sherlock is Smaug."

"Who's Smaug?" asked Finn.

"A very famous dragon," answered Rory, "from a book called The Hobbit. I remember reading that in school, it was my favorite book. If he turned into him, then how do we change him back?"

The Doctor closed the crack and stood back up. "Oh, well, uh..." He scratched the back of his head nervously. "We could... no..." He sighed and looked back at his friends sadly. "I'm sorry. But dimensional changes are very hard to fix. And if Sherlock's changed far enough to properly fly and break walls, then it may be irreversible."

At seeing John and Finn's pained looks, he sighed again and looked away from them. "I'm so sorry, but I may not be able to change him back. I wish I could find a way right now."

John snapped out of his worried feelings after he heard what The Doctor said. "Wait, Doctor. What did you say?"

"Um... Dimensional changes are very-"

"After that."

"Let's go to the dragon's den?"

"What? No, what you just said before I asked you the question!"

"Oh, uh, I wish I could-"

"That's it!" John blurted out, surprising his three friends. "_I wish_! I didn't use up my wishing crystal from the cave!"

Rory got what he was saying and continued his idea. "So you could use it on Sherlock and change him back to normal!"

"Brilliant idea, John!" The Doctor said, the joyful smile returning to his face. He skipped to the former army doctor and enveloped him in a bear hug.

"Oomph! Kinda ch-choking m-me," John strained to say.

"Oh, sorry." The Doctor let him go. "You don't have to be next to him to make the transformation, so just get the crystal and start wishing!"

"Yeah, do it, Dad!" said Finn. "I want to see Sherlock normal again."

"Alright, I'll get it. It's in my room." John started to head towards his room, and the others followed. Once he was in his room, he stopped and stiffened.

"What's wrong?" asked Rory.

"... The crystal was in there," he answered, pointing a finger at a knocked over drawer. A drawer that Sherlock searched through.

"How is that a problem?" asked Finn.

"Finn, you have to remember that Sherlock's a dragon now," said The Doctor. "And you know what dragons do with shiny, precious things."

"They take it and add it to their hoard," said Rory.

"So wherever Sherlock is now," said John, "the crystal is too."

"Well, you know what this means," The Doctor said.

"Let's go to the dragon's den."

* * *

**Author's Note: Hello everybody! A quick note on the whistle in the chapter. If you don't remember, or haven't read my previous story, the whistle was given to John and Sherlock by The Doctor so that whenever an emergency came up, they only had to blow on it and the TARDIS would hear it. And the notes that were heard from it were from the song 'I Am The Doctor.' Or at least, I hope it is. My note-reading's a bit rusty. **


	6. Chapter 6: Into The Dragon's Den

The Doctor opened the door to the TARDIS and walked in with John, Rory, and Finn following. After they got in and closed the doors, John said, "Wait a minute, Doctor, we don't know where Sherlock is. He just flew off."

"Don't worry, my dear John," The Doctor answered, starting to activate the controls, "I have a plan. The TARDIS is able to trace Sherlock by locking onto the trans-dimensional particles he's covered in. We know he would want to go to a mountain or a big hill because of his new instincts. There aren't that many around and, even with his new flying speed, it'll probably take a while for him to find one. So, we're going to see him about a day after he left, a time when he's already found a vacant cave and calmed down."

"Doctor, do you think he'll attack us?" fearfully asked Finn.

"No, no! Definitely not. Sherlock's body may have changed, and a bit of his personality, but his mind is still our favorite sociopath. All we have to do is tell him what we're doing, and wham! We're done. I bet it'll just be a quick trip, nothing too major."

"You do know that whenever you say something like that, something really big happens?" said Rory. It was more of a statement than a question.

"Hey! It was only one time. How was I suppose to know the fish didn't like hats?"

"What are you talking about?" inquired John.

"I'll explain later. Now," The Doctor said, flipping one final switch, "we've landed."

"I'll go out first," offered Rory, heading to the door. "I want to see Sherlock as a dragon for myself."

The Doctor looked up from his computer screen in alarm. "No, wait, Rory! I haven't parked the TARDIS-!"

But it was a bit too late. Rory had opened the door and taken a step forward, almost falling off the precipice of a dirt cliff. He cried out as he started to fall over the edge, but John seized the back of his shirt just in time. Rory scrambled back into the time machine, panting slightly in shock.

"-facing the correct direction. Sorry, Rory," The Doctor said, frowning apologetically.

"I-I-I-It's okay," he stammered.

"Good. Right then! When you exit the TARDIS, carefully go around it, there'll be a cave behind us. Let's go!" The Doctor started towards the doorway.

"Um, Uncle Doctor?" piped up Finn. "I think I'll stay in here. Sherlock's kinda scary now."

"Stay in here? And miss out on all the adventure? Well, it's your loss," the Time Lord replied. "Come on everybody! We've got a dragon to see."

"We'll be right back, Finn," said John, walking out the doorway. He gingerly walked around the TARDIS and looked behind it. He saw that they were on a huge hill. Not exactly a mountain, but it was tall enough to have a pretty big drop if you fell off the edge of the cliff.

On the side of the hill they were on was a huge cave with a wide opening. It was very dark inside, but if the three travelers squinted, then they could glimpse multi-colored reflections in the gloom. They looked at each other, and then walked, more than a bit nervously, into the cave.

The inside was dark at first, but then they came upon a large hoard of gold and gems that lit up the cave with only their reflections alone. A huge dragon lay atop the pile, looking about half the size of the one that The Doctor and John saw through the crack. He was still enormous, and John almost didn't believe that this was his friend. But he saw that the dragon was the one that they were looking for when he saw a pile of discarded, shredded clothes a few feet away from the hoard, and a mop of familiar chocolate curls on top of the dragon's head.

This was Sherlock.

"_How did Sherlock's hoard get bigger_?" John whispered. "_It wasn't nearly this huge before he flew off_."

"_It seems as though he dug this cave out himself_," The Doctor answered, "_and he accidently mined some valuable minerals in the process_."

Rory cleared his throat slightly and pointed at a section of the treasure pile that was fairly close to the ground. "_Look there_," he whispered.

John looked at where he was pointing and saw, hidden among the gold and gems, a familiar crystal gleaming bright white.

"_The wishing crystal!_"

"_Not so loud!_" stage-whispered The Doctor. "_You don't want to wake Sherlock up!_"

"_Why? Even if we do, he'll understand._"

"_No, he won't. If his mind has transformed as much as his body has, then he'll be very opposed to the idea that we want to take even the smallest token from his treasure._"

"_Oh. Then what do we do?_"

"_Maybe we could just do it very stealthily without him hearing us."_

_"That's a dumb idea, Rory!"_

"_You know that I can hear you three perfectly well._"

The Doctor, John, and Rory jumped at hearing the new, grumbling voice and looked up at Sherlock. The dragon was staring down at them from the top of his hoard in amusement, his lips parting in a toothy grin.

"Hello again, Doctor. And, oh it's on the tip of my tongue, Rory! My, it's been awhile. You haven't changed a bit. I don't suppose the same could be said for me." He nonchalantly looked at his claws as he said this.

Rory seemed a bit hurt that Sherlock couldn't remember his name right away, so The Doctor said, "Smaug's mind is almost done taking over Sherlock's. These are the few memories he has left."

"I can still hear you!" the detective growled. "I figured I was changing into Smaug. All the changes fit. You wouldn't mind telling me how all this happened?"

"Maybe later. For now, we should get you back to your old self! Wouldn't that be nice?"

Sherlock grumbled apathetically. "I suppose... It's odd, Doctor. I feel like I want to be back to normal, but at the same time I feel so at home being a dragon. It's so..."

"Confusing?" offered Rory.

"I know you hate saying it, Sherlock," said John. "But admit it. You're confused."

The dragon frowned and grouchily snorted a puff of black smoke. "Fine! I admit it. I'm confused. I guess the sooner I stop being a dragon the better. Okay you three, change me back."

John smiled and started to walk over to the crystal when Sherlock jolted upright. "Woah, woah, woah! What are you planning on doing?"

"John has to use his wishing crystal on you to change you back," said Rory. "It's the only way we can think of."

"No. You are _not_ touching any one of my possessions. They're mine. I rightfully stole them."

The Doctor sighed and feigned defeat. "Oh, alright Sherlock, you grumpy old dragon, we'll go.. Hey, look! A moose!" He pointed towards the imaginary animal near the mouth of the cave.

Sherlock simply glared in disbelief at The Doctor in response. "... Seriously? You literally thought that would work?"

"Yeah, you're right, it's only a lamb."

"A lamb?" Sherlock turned to look at the mouth of the cave.

John decided to take action and started to run towards his crystal. Sherlock noticed this and whipped his head back to the former army doctor, his eyes changing from their normal blue to a draconic yellow and red. He roared and snatched John up in a large, scaly hand.

"John! What's Sherlock doing?!" asked Rory.

"Oh no, his mind has transformed more than he physically did!" The Doctor yelled fretfully. "His instincts are so strong now that they're blocking out important information!"

John was trembling in fear as he was clutched in Sherlock's claw. The dragon glared at him almost hatefully, more of a monster than ever. He roared yet again, his breath piercing John's nose as it blew at him strongly.

"Ugh, Sherlock! You need to brush your teeth once you're back to normal," he complained, grimacing at the foul smell. Once he saw the glare grow stronger, he added, "Please don't incinerate me."

Sherlock thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine, I won't."

"Thank goodness-"

"I'm feeling very hungry. It's been so long since I've tried man..."

John's eyes dilated in horror at those words. He turned around to face The Doctor and Rory, who were watching in alarm on the ground.

"Please tell me I didn't just hear that."

"... Uh... You didn't just hear that," The Doctor answered.

"... You just said that because I told you to, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did."

"Enough talking," growled Sherlock. He opened his mouth, showing two rows of sharp, glistening fangs.

"Doctor, Rory, I don't know about you, but I think now would be a great time to HELP ME!" John shrieked as he was brought closer and closer to the especially large teeth.

"Doctor, we have to do something!"

"I can see that CAPTAIN OBVIOUS!" The Doctor replied irritably. Rory shrunk back at the alien's volume. "But I don't know what to do that doesn't get us burnt or shredded ourselves. All I have is a screwdriver and a dumb radio that won't even switch cha-!"

Suddenly, The Doctor stopped in his rant and gasped. Then a grin spread across his face.

"Oh. Now there's an idea."

"An idea? Then do it!"

The Doctor laughed as he pulled the radio out from his pocket. "Do you know what dreamy soft music's purpose is in the universe, Rory?"

"I don't see how that has to do with anything."

With a smirk, The Doctor said,

"Backflash music."

He turned on the radio and turned up the volume. Soon, the music filled the entire cave.

Meanwhile, John was almost in Sherlock's mouth.

"Sherlock, don't do this! Please! It's me, John Watson! Your flatmate! Your partner! Sherlock..."

And right before the dragon shoved John into his waiting maw, he cried out,

"You're my best friend!"

Sherlock closed his jaws, and at that moment, dreamy music filled the air. This may or may not have helped what was about to happen to happen, but we'll give The Doctor the benefit of the doubt for now.

Sherlock stiffened as he heard those four little words that John had said.

_... Best friend?_

Suddenly, a whole plethora of images flooded Sherlock's head as his old mind and memories came back and conquered his Smaug self.

_Sherlock and John running down a passageway in a crystal cave._

_Sherlock and John running together after a wanted criminal._

_Sherlock taking a vest of explosives off of John._

_John shooting a criminal to save Sherlock's life._

_Sherlock and John panting, out of breath, and laughing after running across the city._

_Sherlock and John smiling as they walked together in sync back to their home. _

His mind looked over all of these images and many more, and came to a fairly obvious conclusion.

_John= Best Friend_

Sherlock quickly reached back inside his mouth and pulled out John, who was completely and thankfully unharmed.

But totally covered in dragon saliva.

The detective filled up with shame when he realized what would have happened if he moved John only a few inches closer to his teeth.

"John... I-I'm so sorry..." The once fearsome and mighty voice was now soft and ashamed.

John wiped some spit off of his face and sighed. "Don't worry, it's alright. Although, next time, try and do the remembering _before_ you put somebody in your mouth?" He spoke with an annoyed tone, but smirked all the same.

Sherlock chuckled and held John to his chest in a sort of a hug.

The Doctor and Rory watched all this from the ground, relieved that no one got run through by a giant tooth.

"Wow," The Doctor said, "a dragon that was once a detective hugging his partner. If I had a nickel for every time I saw that happen, I'd have two nickels."

"That's... that's not that many," said Rory.

"I know. But it's odd enough that I saw it _twice._"

Sherlock stepped off of his hoard, some gold spilling off of it in the process. But he didn't care about that anymore. He put John back down near the crystal, but still kept his head near his partner.

"John, before you change me back, can I ask you something?"

He whispered a few things in his ear and John looked at him, startled.

"Sherlock, I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Please?"

"Oh, all right. But you owe me one." John reached out and grabbed his crystal from the pile. He held it with both hands and closed his eyes.

"I wish Sherlock was human again."

The crystal immediately shone with a great intensity of light, and with many different hues of colors. Streams of light started to flow from the crystal to Sherlock, and they wrapped themselves around him, lifting him up into the air. The streams swirled around him, and Sherlock was bathed in a bright, white glow. His form began to shrink and his claws started to vanish. His wings disappeared, as did his tail, and his scales went away, row by row. The light disappeared, and soon, being lowered to the ground, was a tall, lean human male.

Sherlock's being turned back to normal was met with mixed feelings. John, Rory, and The Doctor were all very pleased that he wasn't a dragon anymore, but at the same time, kind of embarrassed because of one little detail that was left out of the wish.

Sherlock didn't have any clothes on.

The consulting detective brought a hand to his face and smiled when he saw that it was a hand. No claws or scales.

"John, you did it. I'm my old self again."

He looked up and frowned when he saw that everybody else was averting their gaze from him. Then he realized what the reason was.

"And I seem to not be wearing anything. Hang on." He headed towards the slightly shredded clothes next to the treasure heap.

A few minutes later, Sherlock was fully clothed and headed back to his three friends. The Doctor smiled upon his arrival with glee. "So Sherlock, are you glad to be completely human again?"

"Yes. Well," he added with a smirk at John, "not completely."

"What do you mean 'not completely'?" asked Rory.

"Um, I'll explain later."

"Well, whatever it is, we don't have a dragon problem anymore, and we have John to thank!" The Doctor stepped forward to hug John, but wrinkled his nose and stepped back away from him. "Who'll need a bath once we get in the TARDIS."

Everybody burst out laughing at this, quietly chuckling in Sherlock's case, and headed back towards the ship. Until Rory asked, "Wait, what about all the treasure?"

The Doctor looked back at the enormous pile and frowned. "Oh, yeah. That... er...Who wants to help me load that into the TARDIS?"

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, we're nearing the end of our story. Just one more chapter to go! Please review your thoughts and opinions. **


	7. Chapter 7: The End of This Adventure

"There we go!"

The Doctor, Rory, Sherlock, John, and Finn were in Sherlock's bedroom after they had gotten rid of all the treasure from the cave. The Doctor had just finished sealing the crack, which had started the whole problem in the first place, shut with his sonic screwdriver. It closed and simply vanished without a trace.

"It's completely gone now. You won't have to worry about wings or fire-breath anymore."

Sherlock gave a slight chuckle, which for some reason unnerved The Doctor.

"What?"

"Oh, it's just that... I might've asked John to mentally add a little detail to the wish he made."

"What was it?" asked Rory.

"I'll demonstrate," said John, walking over to one of the pillows on the bed. He plucked out one of the feathers and grinned.

"No, John, don't-"

But the doctor had already started to tickle Sherlock's nose with the feather.

"John, sto- Ah... ah..."

John quickly stepped out of the way.

"ACHOO!"

Streams of fire blew from Sherlock as he sneezed, adding another scorch mark to the carpet. He sniffed and looked over to The Doctor, Finn and Rory, who were all equally shocked and startled.

"... So, when you said 'not completely human'..."

"Yes."

"... Okay," said Rory. Finding lack of a better thing to say, he added, "Good for you."

"So," interrupted John, "now that everything's back to normal again, what are you going to be doing?"

"Oh, just traveling from world to world, exploring different time periods," answered The Doctor. "You know, the usual."

"You don't think we can come with you this time? Just for a bit. Please?"

The alien frowned and was about to say 'no', but when he looked at John again, he saw him doing... puppy-dog eyes. And they were extremely convincing.

"Wha- But- How are you doing that?!"

He pointed a finger at Finn.

"Wow. Lessons for begging. That is... Look, it's better that you stay here. Seriously-"

But when The Doctor turned to look again, he saw Finn and Sherlock joining in on the puppy-dog eyes.

"Oh, for Pete's sake!"

"Doctor, let them come with us," said Rory. "At least for a few trips."

"Well... all right. I guess so."

John and Finn beamed with excitement while Sherlock smirked.

The Doctor gave his familiar goofy grin and said, "I hope you're prepared for adventure! Crystal caves and dragons are just the beginning!"

"Doctor," said Rory, "just out of curiosity, if Sherlock's a dragon in the Tolkien universe we saw earlier, then what are we like?"

"That's a good question," he replied, whipping out his sonic screwdriver again. He extended it and glanced at the previous readings. "Hmm... interesting. It says here that you, Finn and I don't have counterparts in that universe, but John and Sherlock do. Sherlock is Smaug, and John is..." The Doctor stopped and read over the readings again and laughed. "Haha! Wow, whaddya know?"

"What is it? Who am I?"

"I'll give you a hint," he replied slyly. "If you were the one changing into your counterpart, you'd have pointy ears and big hairy feet."

John puzzled over what he said until it clicked in his mind. "Wait, you mean I'm... I'm _Bilbo Baggins_?!"

"I'd like to see him like that," Rory said, laughing at how he'd imagine John would look like as a hobbit. "I wish we could go there one day."

Suddenly, a bright light-blue glow started to come from Rory's pocket, and he felt a strange, fuzzy feeling against his leg. Then, the feeling changed from fuzzy to shocking and he quickly took the glowing object out of his pocket. His dimensional portal stone fell to the floor, glowing with great intensity.

"Doctor, what's it doing?"

"Following its master's instructions," he replied, looking more than a bit worried.

Suddenly, a large, white screen of light appeared from where the stone was right under the travelers' feet.

"Uh-oh," The Doctor said, before joining everybody in giving out a panicked cry as they all fell into the screen of light.

**The End... sort of... ish**

* * *

**Author's Notes: So, that's the end of this story. It wasn't as popular as my first one, but I loved writing it anyway. If you don't remember, Rory got his dimensional portal stone in my previous story. So, I actually don't know if I should write another story to follow this one. I don't think it would be that good, but I feel kinda bad about leaving it hanging here like this. Let me know what you think.**

**Thanks again for everyone who read and followed this story! I couldn't have done it without you. Well, maybe I could've, but it would've been a lot lonelier. Bye!**


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